Confessions of a Yam-less Mother

As a doctor, wife and mother, I was blessed to have it all. But that leaves me on my toes, spinning as fast as I possibly can.

It was one of those impossibly beautiful late fall days -- everything seemed freshly washed. The sky shone a stunning blue, the red and yellow leaves clung tenuously to their branches, dancing and shimmering in the early morning sunlight. Two of my kids and I were walking to school doing our favorite morning cheer.

"What does Mommy need?" I prompt.

"Coffee!!" the kids exclaim.

"What does she need?"

"Coffee, coffee!!"

It was then, perhaps triggered by their angelic voices, that I had one of those fleeting moments of absolute clarity. I had finally gotten it down. As Ladies Home Journal put it, I could "have it all" -- a husband, three little kids and a professional career. I had it mastered. Like a ballet dancer pirouetting -- the paradigm of strength and grace.

Then my son said, "What about the yams?"

"The yams?" Oh… the yams.

The dancer crashed to the ground in an awkward heap.

It had started about a week ago innocuously enough -- a note taped to my son's shirt. They were making baskets of food at his school for the needy and needed our contribution -- eight fresh yams. I am all for helping people who don't have enough to eat, I'm just not quite sure what my son will learn by having his already frazzled mother make yet another trip to the grocery store.

"Clearly, your lack of yams means you don't care about your child."

On my more paranoid days, I am convinced the teachers sit around and maliciously plan what sort of scavenger hunt they are going to send the parents on. As the week progressed, the notes requesting yams got more and more urgent -- the words more persuasive. Reading between the lines, the message was "Clearly, your lack of yams means you don't care about your child."

As the daughter of an ardent feminist, I was taken to feminist consciousness meetings as an infant, and Marlo Thomas' "Free to be you and Me" was the background music of my childhood. "You can be anything you want to be," it sang out, and from the age of five I desperately wanted to be a doctor, but I also wanted to be a wife and mother. I was infinitely blessed to get it all, but that leaves me in my present predicament -- yamless, on my toes, spinning as fast as I possibly can.

My script reads like the scrawlings in an insane person's diary -- the inner dialogue going something like this: What was Mrs. Coasts' morning blood sugar? Joey needs to go to the dentist. Do we have milk? Follow up on Mr. Miller's pneumonia. Call the rug cleaner. RSVP for Chanukah party. Buy present for new nephew. Should I start checking Apo A? What are we going to have for dinner?

This duality transcends my thoughts and characterizes my life as well, creating some odd juxtapositions. Like when a patient is greeted by one of my kids coloring in the corner of my office when my housekeeper doesn't show, or when I have to shush a three-year-old while on the phone with a patient discussing his chest pain. The rainbow picture painstakingly drawn by my son is as prominently placed as my medical diplomas in my exam room; both are an inexorable part of who I am.

I wish it were always an easy union. Typically, I am not taken seriously by my colleagues because I refuse to work more than part time; sometimes an emergency at the hospital precludes a Chanukah play, and occasionally I am too crazed to even think about yams.

I have many friends who are mothers with yams. These women know not just their kids' teachers, but ALL the teachers, and are the same ones who are at the Flower Mart at 4:30 a.m. to buy bouquets for a school fundraiser. When they take my kids home from school in an emergency they return them well fed, even having done an art project!

They tend to have beautifully warm and inviting homes, often smelling like freshly baked bread or cookies, and will stay on the phone with me for half an hour when I attempt to make a recipe and lovingly admonish, "No, marsala is not a spice."

Recently, one of my friends, perhaps seeing my tired eyes and realizing we were probably having salad for Shabbat lunch, insisted we join her already full Shabbat table.

Upon tasting the cinnamon scented challah, my four-year-old leaned over and whispered "Ask her where she bought the challah." When told that it was homemade, the shock evident on his face revealed this was definitely a new concept for him. I think he and I both know I could no sooner bake a challah than train an elephant -- and I don't really want to attempt either.

My friends know, however, that if they call one hour before Yom Kippur with an infection, I will prescribe antibiotics and hunt them down after Kol Nidre to make sure the medicine started working; or that should their kids start wheezing at night, I will listen to their lungs to find out if they are congested. And when their husband's lab tests come back, I will spend a half hour on the phone with them analyzing each number, and lovingly admonish, "No, LDL is bad cholesterol."

Like the Ladies Homes Journal says, "I can have it all. I just can't do it all."

So in answer to my son's question on that perfect autumn morning, I am yam-less. And dried apricot-less. And disposable camera-less (and any other random demand-less). But I hope, as I remember his sweet, crooked little smile as he proudly held up the X-ray I was using to teach the heart to his kindergarten class, I can make up for it somehow.

Like the Ladies Homes Journal says, "I can have it all. I just can't do it all." But it is amazingly heartening to know I have friends and family to pick up the slack.

So I remain like the ballet dancer, spinning on her toes. Most of the time I walk around slightly dizzy. Occasionally I fall to the ground with an embarrassing thud. But sometimes, very rarely, for a fleeting moment, I dance -- joyful, graceful and balanced.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 25

(25)
Anonymous,
December 13, 2005 12:00 AM

I, too am a physician and a mother with 3 kids. I am only working as much as we need for the money. I've had to leave multiple jobs because my kids come first. I do not believe a woman can have it all in the way this article describes. Having it all means giving everything to your family first, then you can think about your patients. There are plenty of male doctors out there to take care of all the patients. If we did not need the money, I would defer working while my kids still need the yams.

(24)
Jennie Hoffleith,
January 26, 2004 12:00 AM

Dr. Jackie Yaris

Well, I just love your stories.
In the yams story you say you have it all but you can't do it all.Do you want to know why?
I just found out last week myself.I pick up my grandson from
school. We walk home with his best friend,age 7,and the boy's
mother.They are Hindu from India.
We were talking in a similiar vein to your story about the rush
and complexity of life. She said
to me :Well, do you know that God
doesn't give EVERYTHING to one
person?" So, there you are. He
gave you everything, but there's
a banana peeling on the floor.
You are giving us great insight
into the medical field.We will soon all be doctors; you better
move over and make room for us.
You have it all; we want to know
it all. Do keep on telling us
"like it is".
Jennie

(23)
Beth,
January 1, 2004 12:00 AM

Thank you

That was a fabulous article. Thank you for your honesty and well articulated thoughts.

(22)
Beth G,
January 1, 2004 12:00 AM

nursesvs."perfect"MOM

Great Article as a Mom of older 3 I am still in every direction b/n carpool work and shabbos. It is all One day at a time. Thank You

(21)
Leah Snyder,
January 1, 2004 12:00 AM

THANK YOU!!!!

I am currently on a one-year leave of absence from medical school, have just gotten married, and am slightly dreading the future, though I am committed to being yam-less mom as well... Thank you for your honesty!!!

(20)
rivka,
January 1, 2004 12:00 AM

As a mother of a number of children from teenagers to toddlers and as a medical professional- I can relate so well to this article. G- has given us blessings of children and skills to help other people. It is a constant ballet- but to dance at our best we also have to take time to nuture ourselves-spirtually and physically. Great article I say as my toddlers attempt to destroy the computer!

(19)
sjhepner,
January 1, 2004 12:00 AM

good on you supermum...

in this day and age ..we mums all have to be supermums.. but especially the medicos among us.. who not only tend their kids.. but numerous others..

(18)
Frances Derhy,
December 31, 2003 12:00 AM

Be proud of your success

Your spinning dance reminded me of a very successful London show of many years ago - "Stop the World, I Wan't to Get Off". So many working mothers are spinning on their merry-go-round and the main thing is to hold on tight and stay in control. No-body is perfect and if you think that some working women are, then I contend you don't know the price they're paying because they don't show you. But you worked so hard to get where you are - kol hakavod for your success and for a truly heart-felt article.

(17)
Zachary Weiser,
December 31, 2003 12:00 AM

Thank you for describing my wife to me. I am in awe at her ability to think of her patients with love and at the same time raise our kids, make the holidays beautiful, make Shabos Shabos and, almost always have the teachers' treasure hunt needs fulfilled too!!

(16)
leah abramowitz,
December 31, 2003 12:00 AM

very well put, but one important element is missing

I think Dr. Yaris presented a very pertinent subjectin in a very forward, down to earth manner and most working mothers will relate to her article with nods of identification. We've all been there. But I think she left out the most crucial element and that is a supportive husband in the background (and hopefully there is one on the scene). Over the years the dedicated worker - mother- community volunteer couldn't do it without having the approval, physical backup and behind the scene help of her partner. He could even pick up the yams if she can't manage. So maybe it's time for giving credit where credit is due and admit that superwomen need empathetic and housewise husbands to back them up--and incidently all their daughter-in-laws in the next generation will bless the role model such supportive husbands give their sons.

(15)
Anonymous,
December 31, 2003 12:00 AM

Jewish sisterhood lives!

Our financial position is such that I am blessed not to have to work full-time, so I can take care of our house, my husband, and 4 children. I also am pleased to take care of other people's children, when necessary--shlepping them, feeding them, keeping them "for a while." It takes a village, and I am happy to be a part of it. I like to think other people would do the same for me, if the situation were reversed.

(14)
Dena,
December 31, 2003 12:00 AM

I can identify

I really enjoyed the article. As a full time sales manager for a software firm and a mother of 3 (soon to be 4, please G-d) I am always feeling inadequate. Basically, not a good enough mommy, for not being there for my kids when they come home from school (even though my husband is). I also feel bad that I can never help out other mothers after they give birth by cooking or watching their kids, because I'm simply not around. The Orthodox community of which I am a part conveys to us mothers that we must find all of our fulfillment in the home which is our bet mikdash me'at -- our miniature sanctuary etc. etc. and that if we MUST go out to work in order to support our husbands in learning - we should do it with a kvetch. Well, I have earthshattering news for you. Some of us are just not cut out to be in the home all day. G-d gave each one of us different strengths and qualities and we need to recognize them and use them. I don't have to be the best Sarah Imenu that I can be. I have to be the best Dena that I can be and use the gifts G-d gave me. So, if I am the type that needs the stimulation of work outside the home and rubbing shoulders with other adults that's ok because that's how I was created. In the meantime I have the opportunity to show the secular world what an orthodox woman is like and I have many opportunities to make a kiddush Hashem in the secular work environment. I still feel guilty that I can't be satisfied with being with my kids (aged 3, 6 and 8) all day. I don't work because I HAVE to work. I work because I WANT to work. And at the end of the day, a happy fulfilled mommy makes for a happy, fulfilled home. If I were home with my kids all day I would be climbing the walls and losing my temper. This has nothing to do with feminism which never interested me. This is about not stifling my wants and needs. I enjoy my work, my kids and my life. It's hard but rewarding. thank you Jackie for a wonderful article.It's nice to know I'm not alone (unfortunately, I can't comfort myself with being able to prescribe antibiotics for my friends...)

(13)
Anonymous,
December 30, 2003 12:00 AM

A doctor and a mother; I can't think of two more meaningful and important things to be! Yet when reading this article, I can't help feeling that neither her patients nor her children are getting the best from her...each is compromised in some way due to the other. Choosing quantity over quality, that the identity of "just" a mother/homemaker is not fulfilling enough? But what would be better, no female doctors, or that they must not have children? Unthinkable! So much do I admire the efforts to balance motherhood with such a very demanding career, though it continues to appear after all these years that "having it all" is a painful myth.

(12)
Anonymous,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

Thank you!

Thank you, thank you for a lovely, uplifting article about mothering, work and NO GUILT!
Finally an article by a Jewish working mom that acccepts that some of us have G-d-given talents that we need to use in a capacity other than full-time homemaker (and anyway, isn't even a fulltime doctor/lawyer/ballerina mom always a full-time homemaker?) Yes, some Jewish moms would work even if they didn't absolutely have to for finacial reasons and it doesn't mean we love our children any less or are less good mothers because of it. If anything, it's when we fully develop the strengths Hashem gave us that we can best give of who we are to our children, families and others. I'm a lawyer, writer, and musician, and always first a mommy. Okay--so I might sometime show up in court with little handprints on my suit and I'm occasionally yamless too--but I think somehow, we make it up in other ways. If we believe in what we're doing, then our children will too. And besides, all this juggling does wonders for our davening--we'd never keep it all going if it weren't for tremendous help from Above!

(11)
Shoshana,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

why do you need to have it all?

Dr. Yaris' article describes well the disservice that Feminism did to women. Many wives and mothers (who are not doctors)do strike a balance in which they are not at the flower market at 4:30a.m., but manage no to be constantly "spinning" either, though they have fulfilling jobs and busy homes.
Let's also remember that there is a lot of "I" in "I can have it all" - it is not a coincidence that some people are spinning. Why does one have a need to have it ALL.
I remeber "Free to Be You and Me" well -and I think I was five years old when I realized it did not make sense that a plan like that would benefit the woman.
Don't blame the yams - blame the Feminists.

(10)
Simi Silver, D.D.S.,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

thank you

As a practising dentist (part-time, too which leaves only part-time to do the household stuff so there's never enough time so spinning on my toes too!) with four young children, boy, can I relate. Thanks for giving me the perspective to allow me to forget the yams (or other object, insert here!).

I do enjoy baking challah now and then though with my breadmaker (you can use a Kitchenaid, too) to do all the kneading.

(9)
Olga Bernstein,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

wonderful article

What a reaffirming, wonderful article. Thank you!

(8)
Monica Wolf de Camhi,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

Thank you very much for this article. For more than ten years I have been feeling exactly the same and no one has described it in such a perfect way. Feels good to know that you are not alone!!!

(7)
Marion I. Lipshutz,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

Blame the Feminists?

Dr. Yanis is lucky to have a fulfilling life as a wife, mother and doctor. I give all credit to her feminist parents for raising her with the self confidence and respect for her abilities that in part made in possible.
Please do not "blame the feminists" for the myth of "having it all." Blame the mainstream media's penchant for reducing complex issues into simplistic soundbites.

(6)
Anonymous,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

For over twenty years I've been full time wife and mother. Nowadays when my younger kids are about to fly out of the nest, I'm back to finish my college degree and starting a career which I chose to sacrificed when my beautiful, first born baby daughter came to this universe. I feel truly I have it all: one thing at a time.

(5)
Robin Meyerson,
December 29, 2003 12:00 AM

Life is one big dance concert

You have practiced long and hard and are performing remarkably well. As one who worked full time, had kids and recently quit to bake challah from scratch and be a full time mom - see article on AISH - I can tell you that it's a nice change to sit in the audience and watch the dance for a while and rest a little. Don't forget to take care of yourself! You're doing great!

(4)
margie,
December 28, 2003 12:00 AM

Boy! Can I relate!

I think you hit the nail on the head for 90% of wives, mothers who have it all, but just can't quite get to do it all! -- I especially enjoyed the ballet dancer metaphor because that is what I do! Can you imagine how dizzy I am!

(3)
Diane Wernick Benjamin,
December 28, 2003 12:00 AM

Touched her 'soul sisters' hearts!

Enjoyed Dr. Yaris' article so much that I sent copies to several of my clients and friends who seem to be doing the same dance...including myself! She glided us through this charming reminder of how we can still try to do it all...and if she has the time to write so well, we are assurred that in spite of it all, she is one sweet potato to her family!

Diane Benjamin

RE/MAX Preston Road North

Dallas, TX

mother of 7 = grandmother of 8

full time REALTOR & Volunteer with

Thank G-d NORMAL, healthy, children with yiddishkeit.

(2)
Terry,
December 28, 2003 12:00 AM

I cried

Your article touched a nerve in my heart, I hate to leave my kids, but I have to work...

(1)
lolly seidenfeld,
December 28, 2003 12:00 AM

Jackie is a gem in our community!

I see my neighbor jackie doing the walk with her kids daily -- and now I know their cheer! yasher koach for your beautifully written article! we appreciate you!

I've been striving to get more into spirituality. But it seems that every time I make some progress, I find myself slipping right back to where I started. I'm getting discouraged and feel like a failure. Can you help?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Spiritual slumps are a natural part of spiritual growth. There is a cycle that people go through when at times they feel closer to God and at times more distant. In the words of the Kabbalists, it is "two steps forward and one step back." So although you feel you are slipping, know that this is a natural process. The main thing is to look at your overall progress (over months or years) and be able to see how far you've come!

This is actually God's ingenious way of motivating us further. The sages compare this to teaching a baby how to walk. When the parent is holding on, the baby shrieks with delight and is under the illusion that he knows how to walk. Yet suddenly, when the parent lets go, the child panics, wobbles and may even fall.

At such times when we feel spiritually "down," that is often because God is letting go, giving us the great gift of independence. In some ways, these are the times when we can actually grow the most. For if we can move ourselves just a little bit forward, we truly acquire a level of sanctity that is ours forever.

Here is a practical tool to help pull you out of the doldrums. The Sefer HaChinuch speaks about a great principle in spiritual growth: "The external awakens the internal." This means that although we may not experience immediate feelings of closeness to God, eventually, by continuing to conduct ourselves in such a manner, this physical behavior will have an impact on our spiritual selves and will help us succeed. (A similar idea is discussed by psychologists who say: "Smile and you will feel happy.")

That is the power of Torah commandments. Even if we may not feel like giving charity or praying at this particular moment, by having a "mitzvah" obligation to do so, we are in a framework to become inspired. At that point we can infuse that act of charity or prayer with all the meaning and lift it can provide. But if we'd wait until being inspired, we might be waiting a very long time.

May the Almighty bless you with the clarity to see your progress, and may you do so with joy.

In 1940, a boatload 1,600 Jewish immigrants fleeing Hitler's ovens was denied entry into the port of Haifa; the British deported them to the island of Mauritius. At the time, the British had acceded to Arab demands and restricted Jewish immigration into Palestine. The urgent plight of European Jewry generated an "illegal" immigration movement, but the British were vigilant in denying entry. Some ships, such as the Struma, sunk and their hundreds of passengers killed.

If you seize too much, you are left with nothing. If you take less, you may retain it (Rosh Hashanah 4b).

Sometimes our appetites are insatiable; more accurately, we act as though they were insatiable. The Midrash states that a person may never be satisfied. "If he has one hundred, he wants two hundred. If he gets two hundred, he wants four hundred" (Koheles Rabbah 1:34). How often have we seen people whose insatiable desire for material wealth resulted in their losing everything, much like the gambler whose constant urge to win results in total loss.

People's bodies are finite, and their actual needs are limited. The endless pursuit for more wealth than they can use is nothing more than an elusive belief that they can live forever (Psalms 49:10).

The one part of us which is indeed infinite is our neshamah (soul), which, being of Divine origin, can crave and achieve infinity and eternity, and such craving is characteristic of spiritual growth.

How strange that we tend to give the body much more than it can possibly handle, and the neshamah so much less than it needs!